


Behind the Iron Curtain

by Capucine



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Brother-Sister Relationships, Cold War, Drama, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/F, F/M, Historical, M/M, Physical Abuse, Rape/Non-con Elements, Romance, Sexual Assault
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-02
Updated: 2015-08-02
Packaged: 2018-04-12 13:20:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4480769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Capucine/pseuds/Capucine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Czech realizes the danger that Slovakia is in, she does her best to protect him. Unfortunately, in a rat's nest of intrigue and manipulation, her intentions are misinterpreted, and lead to dire consequences for all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Behind the Iron Curtain

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be long. It's supposed to be a drama. I will be sure to explain things as they come up.

Czech did not like being with Russia. Not with in a romantic sense, obviously, but good god she did not like being Soviet. She’d already had to deal with Slovakia going into a funk, face like he was a child and his balloon had been popped.

Except, of course, it was so much worse than that.

He’d even stopped talking about the hyphen for once. He’d simply been cleaning, cleaning, cleaning, and never stopping to talk about how he felt or how he was slowly sinking into despair.

Things were stark. From their clothes to their friends, things had changed drastically. Suddenly, there was an invisible wall keeping them from the rest of the world, stuck only with Hungary, Poland, _East_ Germany, and so on. Yes, Poland was a cousin, but they definitely still held a bit of a grudge after the war back before the World War.

Czech knew she should be looking out for her brother. She knew she ought to do something to make him feel better, and ought to cave on _something_ , but she still found it so impossible to give in to what he wanted.

She was working in Russia’s ‘courtyard’ (a collection of concrete bricks forced into the ground), sweeping it up. A bit away, she saw Slovakia rubbing at the windows with a rag, dipping it in the freezing water and trying to get years’ worth of grime off.

She watched his back with a frown, trying not to think on how much colder it would get, as this was only the fall. She should say something to him. She ought to soothe him, make him feel less like he would lose his numb fingers and more like there was hope.

So, setting down the broom, she started across the dead grass towards Slovakia.

That was when he dropped the rag, and abruptly dropped into a sitting position. Sitting down on the job, kind of typical.

But then it wasn’t typical, when she grabbed his shoulder and turned him to face her. She had been about to tease him about being lazy (even though he wasn’t), but the words died on her tongue.

Tear tracks were down his face, streaked with grime, and his lips trembled with the effort of not crying with sound. He immediately scrubbed at his face when he saw her, and said, “I-I-I’m okay. I’m not crying, just g-got some water on me...”

A pang struck Czech’s heart. She enfolded his ice-cold fingers within hers, trying to think what an older sister should say. For now, she tried to warm his hands.

But the tears kept coming. They had been here a month, and Russia showed no signs of sending them back to their home. Czech realized it must have been very hard on Slovakia, who enjoyed being in their tidy little home and working on the garden, going through a good book, even the good feeling of doing a huge job. He’d seemed tireless before the war. Now, he looked worn out.

“Hey, silly. Stop it,” Czech mumbled, still keeping his hands clenched tightly in hers. She felt like the heat was being leeched out of her hands and into his.

Slovakia sniffled loudly, lips still quivering as he fought the tears. “I want to go home. I just want to go home.”

Czech sighed. He'd always been the more emotional of the two, and so, like she was his mother, she pulled him close. It was kind of awkward, reminiscent of times when things were scary and they would hold each other tight and pray to God that they would not be entirely destroyed by this terror.

She still remembered the days, way in the past, that Hungary had brought fear into Slovakia's heart, that she had gone through that horrible way of treating all of them, but especially soft Slovakia. He was such an easy target, Czech reflected, as she held her crying brother. 

His arms were in between them, as if he realized the body heat would save his fingers. He was stiff, muscles twitching under her hands as he seemed to fight not to move the wrong way.

God, when had they gotten like this?

The 'courtyard' was swept. Czech dipped her hand into the bucket, which held several rags, and began to scrub at the window, letting Slovakia go. “Come on, silly. It's going to be okay.”

“Yeah,” Slovakia said dully, scrubbing at a corner of the window. “Sure.”

Czech pressed her lips together. 

It would. It had to.

And she would do whatever it took to protect Slovakia throughout this.

**Author's Note:**

> Czechoslovakia fought with Poland for their borders after WWI. Poland actually had to fight a lot of people over borders.
> 
> Hungary's being cruel is a reference to the Hungarian nobility of around Elisabeth Bathory's time. While Bathory was insanely cruel and much worse than most, there was a general cruel mistreatment of the servants, especially in Slovakia, as I understand.


End file.
